


Behind The Sea

by brenfucker



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: AU - Mythology, M/M, mermaid!Brendon, siren!brendon, spencer's 17 so maybe underage depending on where u live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 00:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11566443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brenfucker/pseuds/brenfucker
Summary: Spencer is a Scottish boy providing for his family after his father died in World War II.Brendon is a naive and virtuous... mermaid?





	Behind The Sea

The boat was loaded, packed full of all his gear and plenty of snacks and drinks. Spencer has had first hand experience with snack-lackage on his boat, and that sucked.   
  
"Don't go past Matilda's Rocks, ya hear?" Spencer's mother told him, her Scottish accent thick as the fog surrounding the edges of the bay.  
  
"Yes, Ma," he droned.  
  
"Spence, you better listen to me. It's a dangerous place with monsters and ghouls and _mermaids_!" She was laughing by the end of it.  
  
"Ma, that's just children's tales." Spencer rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide his smile.  
  
"It don't change the fact that many o' sailors 'ave died out there. I don't want you gettin' hurt, or worse. Promise me, Spence."  
  
"I promise."   
  
"Good. Supper's at six-thirty. Please, try not to be late."  
  
"Yes, Ma."  
  
"Oh, and catch us a fish for tomorrow! It'll be a biggin' a betchya!" she winked at him before she walked up the dock, calling, "Good fishing!"  
  
"See you!"  
  
Spencer smiled to himself, thinking of his mother. His attention drifted off to his boat now though. He double checked the last couple things, made sure all ropes were tied securely and everything was set. He climbed in, leaned to untie the rope from the dock and pushed off, grabbing the oars.  
  
**  
  
Spencer was beginning to get frustrated. He'd been out in the water for nearly two and a half hours and not a single bite! He used the same bait as everyone else in his small town. Hell, it was the only bait available. He couldn't come home empty handed, that wasn't an option. He may only be seventeen, but since his father died in the war, he's been the "man of the house". He catches the fish, and makes a good portion of the money his family earns. Besides, he's the eldest of his siblings, and the only one allowed to go alone. He's tried taking his oldest sister (five years younger than himself), but she's two impatient and results to spooking all the fish away. His fourteen year old brother is dead-set on becoming a soldier, and has no interest. The rest are too young.   
  
He hesitantly turns and looks down the bay towards Matilda's Rocks, a group of jagged sea stacks along a small reef on the south side of the mouth of the bay. The inland side has calm water, which is much safer than being out to sea. No one fishes down there, so there's bound to be plenty of fish, undisturbed. What his mother doesn't know, won't hurt her, he reasons. He checks the clock and decides he may as well. He begins oaring, guilt settling in his stomach.   
  
**   
  
He slowly arrives, mesmerized by the beauty of the reef. The side he is on is just rocky sand with jagged towers of rock, sticking up from a long line rough beach but the trees are filled with flowers of every color. He drags his boat up and ties it to a tree, securely. He digs through and grabs his bait kit and his rod, walking along to find a good spot with deeper water, more suitable for the types of fish he desired.   
  
Once he had found a good spot, he perched atop a flat rock and began attaching a hook to his rod. He pondered that it would have been a lot more convenient to have premade some nicer hooks but didn't think much of it.   
  
Suddenly, he realized he wasn't alone. He froze, and slowly looked up to see a boy, about his age, wading in the water before him. The boy was looking with wide eyes at Spencer's legs. He had big, chocolate eyes and full lips which were parted slightly.  
  
"Hello," the boy said. His voice was deeper than he expected, smooth and eerily calming. Nothing about this situation should be calming.  
  
"Uh, hello?" Spencer said, a bit nervous.   
  
The boy's eyes suddenly snapped up to him, "I'm Brendon. My momma warned me about men like you, she said they're ugly with jagged teeth and metal hooks to steal us up from the water. You've got a pretty face though and...what—what are these?" His gaze dropping back down to Spencer's legs.   
  
The boy swam forwards and all of the sudden Spencer's brain broke.  
  
This boy—Brendon—had a tail. A long, shimmering green-blue tail that trailed behind him gracefully and he swam forwards.   
  
Brendon yanked on one of his legs, gently pulling it down to look at, pushing up his slacks and rubbing his hands over his calves. Spencer dropped his rod beside him in surprise. "My momma never told me about this. You don't have scales?"   
  
"I do not, you do?" Spencer's voice was shaking. He must be dreaming. Brendon continued running his hands over Spencer's legs.   
  
"Of course! How else would I swim?" He splashed his tail out of the water to present it to Spencer, wonder transforming to pride in his eyes. "You never said your name."  
  
"No."  
  
"No?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"No is a quite peculiar name, if I must say. But nothing about you is ordinary," Brendon flashed a smile up at him, through his long eyelashes.  
  
"Spencer. M-my name is, it's—I'm Spencer, actually," he cursed himself mentally for being so improper.   
  
"Okay Spencer, why don't you show me some more of these peculiar things you've got here."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I _mean_ get rid of this incessant, obnoxious fabric. I'm not covering up my tail so why are you?"  
  
Spencer's eyes grew round as saucers and he flushed as red as a cherry. That wasn't something boys do with other boys. He's heard stories of the boys from his classes removing their trousers for the girls, and he knew what that meant. Boys weren't supposed to do things like that with other boys. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought of it. He had often, honestly. He thought of the boy with red hair and fair skin that sat diagonal from him in maths. He thought of his lobsided smile, and the curve of his back and his long slender fingers sometimes while he took a bath. Though he'd never admit to that. He knew it was wrong. God condemned homosexuality as a sin, and to partake in sin is to go to Hell. He'd learned all about it in Theology, though he didn't quite understand it. What he understood was not to talk about it. Boys don't do those things with other boys and that was that.   
  
"I-I can't!" Spencer squeaked. "It's improper."  
  
"What's improper is me being so kind as to show you my beautiful tail and you hiding yours away. Show me!"   
  
Spencer tried to reason with himself that Brendon had a point and that's why he was unbuckling his belt with shaking hands. He stood up on the rock and toed his shoes off, peeling off each sock and then hesitating at the waistband of his slacks, his thumbs against his skin, pinching two layers of fabric and looking down at Brendon. Brendon's tail swayed behind him, shimmering green and blue and many other colors, iridescent. It was glinting under the sun, wet and only slightly above water, most of it was submerged and reflected light around the water. Brendon was holding on to the side of the rock and looking at Spencer's feet with wide eyes, lightly running a finger over his toes. Spencer squirmed a tad, ticklish.  
  
Brendon looked up at him, "Go on," he coaxed, voice soft, hypnotizing.  
  
Spencer couldn't help but do as he said. His voice was intoxicating, honey and velvet and chocolate and all those luxe things he hears about on the pub radio, only thirty times better. Spencer turned away and pushed his slacks and underwear down his thighs and let them pool around his ankles. He stepped out of them, and layed them on the rock so he could sit comfortably, awkwardly hiding his dick by simply placing his underwear over top. Brendon watched him every second, barely blinking and fascination. Spencer blushed under his gaze. Once Spencer seemed comfortable, Brendon surged forwards, grabbing his legs and running his hands all over. He rubbed the hair either way, watching it smooth down and then stand up every which way. Brendon rubbed the goosebumps on the outside of his thighs, his cold, wet hands not helping the situation, moving them inwards towards the smooth pale expanse of his inner thighs. Spencer squeaked. Brendon merely looked up at him and smiled, innocently.   
  
"You have these weird things on the ends that seperate into a bunch _more_ weird things," Brendon says, speaking of Spencer's feet and toes. He suddenly pushes Spencer's legs apart with a lot more strength than Spencer thought he had, sliding his hands up to his inner thighs, "and your face turns so red when I rub right here!"  
  
Sure enough, Spencer's face was red as a beet and he was breathing a quicker than normal.   
  
Brendon's gaze fixed on the cloth between Spencer's legs, his eyebrows knitting together, "what are you hiding from me, Spencer?"   
  
Spencer tried to object but it was too late because before he could say anything, Brendon was pulling away the underwear and looking directly at Spencer semi-aroused cock. Spencer couldn't breathe.   
  
"What's this?" Brendon said, reaching forwards and wrapping his hand around.  
  
Spencer hissed and his eyes fell shut, unable to control the way his head tilted back.   
  
"Oh goodness, did I hurt you?" Brendon asked, in a panic. "I'm sorry, I don't have one of those so I don't know, I'm so sorry."  
  
"No no no, Jesus Christ don't apologize. That wasn't—that didn't hurt at all," Spencer breathed.   
  
"So, was it good?" Brendon asked, grinning brightly.   
  
Spencer blushed hard.   
  
"Ooh it was, I can tell!" Brendon immediately goes back and wraps his hand around again, squeezing gently and smiling when he hears Spencer pant heavily and buck his hips forwards. "Tell me what to do, I wanna make you feel good."  
  
Spencer wanted to believe this was a dream, though this was so much better than anything that he could think up.   
  
"I don't—I don't know just like, go up and down and oh!" Spencer moaned loudly as Brendon began stroking his cock quickly, grip tight. He picked his hips forward. "Oh God!"  
  
This was a million times better than anything he's ever done to himself.   
  
"It's getting bigger," Brendon noted with wide eyes, proud that he was causing the reaction he was. Brendon trailed his free hand over his thighs, moving up to stroke his balls lightly, running his hand through the course hair. Just feeling everything. Spencer bucked his hips up into his fist. "Can I taste it?" he asked.  
  
"Oh God, please."  
  
"How do I do it?"  
  
"Ungh, uh, y-you can, put your mouth, God, on it," Spencer suggested nervously, thinking of what he's heard his friends say the girls do.  
  
Brendon narrowed his eyes, "Like how?"  
  
"Like y-you suck on it and, ah, lick," Spencer breathed, quick to add, "N-no teeth, though!"  
  
Brendon was more than excited. He leaned forwards and took Spencer's cock into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around, looking up at Spencer through his eyelashes, measuring his reactions. Spencer's head tilted back, and he whined, loud and desperate. He sucked on just the head for a little, licking along the slit and tasting the sweet, salty taste, before pushing all the way down, relaxing his throat and sucking hard, hearing Spencer cry out above him.   
  
"Oh god, f-fuck, fuck I'm gonna—I gotta, fuck!" Spencer tried to warn. Spencer couldn't control the profanities that spilled from his lips, when he was in this state, his body wracked in sheer pleasure. Brendon didn't understand and hummed around him inquisitively, just pushing Spencer closer to the edge. Brendon pulled up to suck on just the head and stroke the rest and looked at Spencer with confusion. Spencer wasn't looking though, his head was tilted back with his eyes shut and an expression of pure bliss adorning his face as he writhed and moaned. Spencer cried out and a sweet salty liquid poured out of his cock. Brendon liked the taste and pulled back, continuing to stroke him quickly as he watched with fascination. Spencer was fully relaxed, laying against the rock with his legs spread wide and his hips still stuttering from the aftershocks. That was one of the most intense orgasms he's ever had in his entire life.   
  
"What's this white stuff?" Brendon asked, sliding his finger across the wet slit of Spencer's cock, last drops of cum sliding down.   
  
Spencer hissed and pulled his hips away as he was growing soft.   
  
"Sorry, sorry, what's wrong?"  
  
"Gah, too much," Spencer gasped. "Oversensitive."  
  
"Tastes good," Brendon said as he licked it off his finger. Spencer whimpered, watching him suck the finger into his mouth. "You looked really pretty while I did those things to you."   
  
Spencer blushed, "Th-thank you."  
  
Spencer's eyes widened as he looked at the clock he had lied next to him on the rock. He had thirty minutes to get home and absolutely zero fish.   
  
"Oh gosh," Spencer said, panicking slightly. He sat up and began tugging his clothes back on, but stopped as Brendon grabbed his leg.   
  
"Why are you covering up again?" He asked. He looked hurt and confused.  
  
"I really must go, my mother expects me back home with a fish, and I still have yet to catch one." Spencer shoved his hooks and bait back into the box.  
  
"Ooh, I can help! I know the best places to find fish! I'm not technically allowed to catch them, I'm not old enough but sometimes my older brothers take me with them to teach me. I can get you some."  
  
Before Spencer can even consider protesting, Brendon sinks down into the water, and swims away, tail catching light through the water and shimmering.   
  
Spencer still feels boneless and sated and it feels nice to lay back down against the cool rock, and look up at the edge of the trees reaching out into the foggy sky. It's hard to think of much of anything right now, except for that boy. It turns out those stories his mother told him—the ones _she_ didn't even believe—were true. He thinks of Brendon's shimmering tail, the way the light reflected off of it, casting beams of sunlight through the water. The scales were sparse the further up his body they went, stopping at the beginning of his rib cage. The powerful muscles of his tail, curving into a tan, freckled back. His shoulders weren't too broad, not as broad as expected for someone who spends all their life in the water. He envisions his lips, full and pink—pinker even, after they'd been around Spencer's cock. His deep brown eyes, long eyelashes fanning across his cheeks when the light was right, messy eyebrows. His hair was messy, not slicked back by the water, but fluffy, instead. His skin was covered in freckles, and in a way, seemed to glow, warm and golden. It was comforting, enchanting... hypnotizing, even.   
  
Spencer jumped as a cold, wet hand wrapped around his pant leg. When he looked up, Brendon was looking back up at him, big eyes gazing at him, lips curved in a smile, and Spencer was hit with a wave of arousal, seemingly unexplainable. Brendons other arm raised out of the water and against the rock, he slapped three large fish, about two and a half feet long each. Spencer gaped at the fish in shock.   
  
"Are these okay?" Brendon asked, almost shy.  
  
"These are so much more than okay, they're perfect! Thank you!" Spencer exclaims. Brendon beams up at him, his face showing a pure expression of pride. Something twists in Spencer's stomach and all of the sudden, he is filled with the urge to get closer to Brendon. He resists it, though, and stands up, blushing. He puts the fish into a sack, of which they barely fit, and picks up his bait and tackle box. "I must be going. Would you like to see my boat?"  
  
Spencer knows it's only a rowboat, but he doesn't want to part with Brendon. Brendon nods enthusiastically and swims in the water beside Spencer, as he walks back to his boat. Upon arriving, Spencer puts his belongings inside and begins pushing the boat out into the water. He climbs in and rows out to wear Brendon is waiting, in deeper water.  
  
"Are you—are you a mermaid?" Spencer felt foolish asking.  
  
"No, I'm a siren."  
  
Spencer nearly chokes. "Aren't sirens—" _creatures of seduction_ , he almost said. His grandmothers room was filled floor to ceiling with books and he'd read about sirens. They were supposedly 'evil creatures of seduction' who led many sailors to their deaths. They would hypnotize the men until they would follow them into the water and drown. Though, he's never seen any mention of male sirens, and besides, Brendon didn't seem 'evil' in the slightest.  
  
Brendon tilts his head to the side in confusion. It reminds Spencer of his dog.   
  
Definitely not evil.  
  
"Nevermind that. Can you sing?" Spencer remembered that a sirens song is what enchants the sailors and leads them to their deaths. He suddenly regrets asking.  
  
"My momma says I'm not supposed to, that bad things will happen," Brendon rolls his eyes.   
  
Just his voice is melodic, and Spencer wants to dive into the water and get as close to him as possible. With his newfound knowledge, he tears himself away from that thought, frightened.  
  
"I must go," Spencer states.  
  
Brendon pouts and Spencer wants to stay here forever. "Will you come visit me again?"  
  
"Tomorrow," he can't control himself. He needs to come back. "Same time?"  
  
"Yes please."  
  
And with that, Brendon winks at him and sinks down into the water, swimming way. Spencer is alone.  
  
He begins rowing home.

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this on my phone so long ago, but I recently remembered it and finished it. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> tumblr: @peachepup


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